Ballerinas
by ladidai
Summary: Two old friends bump into each other. Neither of their lives have gone the way they had planned. One-shot.


_"Not every little girl gets to do what they want. The world could not support that many ballerinas."_

* * *

"Michael, you don't need an invitation to enter your own office."

Two people walked up next to him. The one who spoke was the managing partner and one of the last who personally knew one of the firm's founders. He acted like everyone's father and always had a kind word for anyone, from his fellow partners to the mail room clerks, in the office, although that demeanor could change in an instant in the courtroom. Mike had the great honor of witnessing that kindly, old gentleman turn into a pit bull as he cross-examined a witness in court.

The other had been the newest senior partner until Mike's promotion. He didn't know much about the man, other than the fact that he was highly competent at financial cases and had the highest billables in the entire firm for almost a decade. Rumor had it he was a giant prick, probably why it took so long for him to be made a senior partner.

"I know sir," Mike said with a smile. "I don't think it's hit me quite yet."

"Call me Frank. You're a senior partner now." He partially opened the door they were all standing in front until Mike took over and pushed it open all the way. "And I just wanted to see how our newest senior partner was doing this morning."

The managing partner excused himself after Mike took a step into his new room and he expected the other partner to leave as well. That didn't happen as the other senior partner told Mike's temporary assistant not to disturb them, pushed Mike into the office, and closed the door behind them. Mike hadn't heard any rumors of a special welcome, besides a dinner with Frank at Le Bernardin which had already happened, so he wondered what the hell was going on.

He didn't have to wait long as the other man pulled out a hotel keycard from his suit pocket and looked at Mike as though was he supposed to know what to do.

"What's that for?"

"A hotel room," the man said with a smirk and Mike could see why everyone thought this guy was a prick.

With no point in getting annoyed, Mike took a breath and glanced at the card again. The name printed on it told him it opened a door to one of the most expensive and luxurious hotels in the city.

"What's the hotel room for?"

Mike didn't think it was possible, but the man's smirk became slimier.

"Some of the other partners like to chip in for a welcoming gift for the newly promoted."

There was really only one gift that required a luxurious hotel room, a certain type of entertainment where the entertainer had certain expectations as to the financial level of the client. In his business, Mike had heard of the most beautiful high-class escorts who were wined and dined by the richest and most well-connected members of business and government. He had also heard of firms who had been put into difficult positions trying to extricate their clients from situations that could happen when such services were used. Sometimes things ended with a massive payout. Other times they ended with a primetime news story.

"Does Frank know about this?"

"No, and I trust you'll keep it that way whatever your choice."

"I can turn this down?"

"You can, although, I wouldn't if I were you. She's a twenty-five year old independent who comes highly recommended." Mike took his previous thoughts back. The man's smirk could get slimier. "It would be a shame to waste it since payment happens no matter what. So…I may keep the card for myself."

Mike still hadn't decided if he was going to actually use the card or not, but he could save the woman from having to deal with this guy. He took the card. The other man pulled out a small envelope from his suit, handed it to Mike, and said "Good choice."

Inside the envelope was a business card that had, what he assumed to be, a room number written in elegant cursive on one side, and on the other it said, _Michelle_

* * *

The moment Mike walked into the hotel bar he knew he wasn't the only one who had a certain type of company that night. There weren't many, but a few women in revealing dresses were scattered around the bar, laughing too hard at not-so-funny jokes being told by men much too old for them.

_What the hell was he doing here?_

He never thought he would be the kind of guy who had to pay for the company of a woman but it had been a long time since he had had sex. After his short-lived dance career sputtered out, he rededicated himself to the law, something he had always been interested in. The endless hours he poured into his career gave him his rapid rise within the firm but had left little time for dating, or even casual sex. Most nights ended with him in front of his laptop with his pants around his ankles. Not exactly what he pictured his sex life would be in his mid-thirties.

_At least he wouldn't be parading her off like a trophy._

A strange thought to have since he would be doing the same things to her as the guys who were showing off their prizes in public. Although, he still hadn't decided if he would go through with it or not. He assumed he could go up to the room and tell her that she wouldn't have to do anything tonight. She wouldn't care since she would be paid either way.

His nerves were a mess. It felt like Tina was standing in front of him and he was seconds away from asking her out for the first time. This was insane. He could stand, perfectly calm, in front of a judge and argue a case worth hundreds of millions of dollars and there was no chance of rejection here but he still felt like he hadn't asked someone out in a long time, probably because it was true. He needed a drink and the glass of expensive bourbon from the bar did wonders for his nerves. His hand barely shook as he stuck the keycard into the slot and opened the door. He half expected her to be standing in front of the door with nothing on except a bra and panties, but there was no one but him.

The room was nothing less than the most luxurious place Mike had ever been in. Hardwood furniture and floors, as well as the dark colors from the rugs, upholstery, and furnishings, gave the room an old-world feeling, a nice change from the sleek, modern look that dominated the majority of luxury hotels. Of course there were modern amenities like a large flat screen TV, Wi-Fi, and a full bar, all of which he took advantage of while he waited.

A knock on the door damn near made him spill his drink all over himself.

He took a deep breath and made his way to the door. Opening it, the first thing he noticed was her height. The top of her head barely reached his nose even though she wore high heels. The second thing he noticed was her dress which was black, came down to her knees, and revealed just enough olive toned skin to be alluring in all the right places without advertising what she was going to be doing tonight. It showed she had class. The third thing he noticed—

"Hello, I'm Michelle." She extended her hand and he took it into his out of habit. Her skin was soft and smooth and her grip was light, but with a hint of firmness, like he had always expected. "I believe you're expecting me."

The look of confusion on his face must have given her pause because she said, "I'm sorry. Do I have the wrong room?"

"I don't think so," he said, pulling out the business card with her name on it. "Rachel."

Her eyebrows snapped together as her eyes narrowed up at him. He could almost see the gears in her mind grinding her memories in an effort to place his face and voice. When she sounded out the letter M, he knew it was just a matter of time before she finally remembered.

"M—Mike? From Lima?"

"Yea." He had half a grin on now. "Good ol' McKinley High."

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a monotone voice.

They were still holding hands so he gently squeezed hers and said, "Come inside."

It took a bit of effort to pull her inside. She was kind of stiff, probably from the shock of this unexpected encounter but he got her inside and over to the bed where she sat down and did nothing but stare straight ahead with a few glances shot toward him.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked while offering her his untouched drink.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you." The hotel provided high quality alcohol and Rachel's experience and knowledge of the stuff showed as she closed her eyes and savored the taste of the bourbon. When they opened and found him, she said, "I see you've done well for yourself."

It immediately looked like she regretted that comment since it gave Mike an opening to ask her about her situation but he wasn't ready to have that conversation with her. He might never be ready. Nor might he ever have this chance again since part of him never wanted to see her again. Part of her had to have felt the same way about him too. Embarrassment was too weak of a word to describe what he felt at the moment. Although, she must have felt it even more.

"So, I'm not sure if you want the full act," she said as she inserted her fingers between the buttons of his shirt and gently pulled him over. "But we can skip that if you want."

Then again, maybe she didn't feel embarrassed at all.

His hand found hers again and she looked up at him. "What exactly is the full act?"

She licked her lips and swallowed before saying, "You know…"

It didn't look like she was comfortable continuing that sentence so he tried to pick up where he left off. "Going out to restaurants or bars?"

"Yes. Do you want to do either of those things?"

He declined, but wanted room service. She wanted a salad. They tried to make small talk while they waited but he wasn't comfortable with it and she didn't seem very comfortable with him either. Eventually, he took a seat in one of the plush chairs on the other side of the room while she remained seated on the bed. As they waited, all he could think about was how Rachel had ended up as a high-class escort. He wondered if she was thinking about why he was in the room with her.

Their food arrived and they were actually able to speak comfortably to each other about their dishes and wine as they ate which led to conversations about other topics. But, even though they eventually ran out of things to eat and drink, their conversation still continued with Rachel even reaching across the table to touch and caress his arm and hand every once in a while. If Rachel's outfit and demeanor hadn't already told him everything he needed to know about her usual clientele, then the depth and breadth of her knowledge of seemingly every topic that could, and did, interest a man in his position, as well as the way she worked in more personal comments, thanks to their shared history, would have.

In this one conversation over and after dinner, they talked more than they had in four years of high school and part of him wondered if this was natural on her part. He knew that escorts of her class provided more than just sex. The personal connection they made with their clients was worth as much as, if not more than, the physical pleasure they could give. People with the amount of money and power he had access to could always find a sexual partner. They were paying handsomely for the illusion of intimacy, which meant the escort had to provide it, even under circumstances like this.

Even though he had a rough idea, he wondered exactly how much Rachel was being paid for this night. Then he decided he didn't want to know. Then he decided he didn't want the illusion of intimacy anymore.

The next time she reached over, in the middle of telling some clever political joke, instead of letting her pull her hand back, he held onto it and said, "What happened to you Rachel? You were supposed to be the one who made it."

She jerked back as though he had slapped her across the face, but he continued to press. "How'd you end up like this?"

Pulling her hand back, she stood up, clearly declining to answer his questions. But, she put words behind her actions as well. "I'd prefer if we didn't talk about it."

"Fine," he said, raising his hands in surrender.

Her tongue snuck out of her mouth and slowly licked her lips, but it was far from sensual and she seemed to catch herself doing it as she quickly stopped and chewed on her top lip. It looked like a combination of nervous ticks, a habit it looked like she was trying to break. For the first time that night, he felt a twinge of lust as he stared at her glistening lips, not that he would do anything about it. Not that she didn't make things harder on him. Her hand came up and pulled one of the straps of her dress off her shoulder, revealing more and more of her skin, while she said, "I suppose you'd like to move onto other things then."

Mike shot up from his seat and said, "No, that's not what I want," which brought her hand to a stop. The illusion of two former friends finding each other had been shattered, now that the truth of their current situation was front and center again, the uncomfortableness returned to envelop them and time seemed to slow as they stood there looking at each other.

"So…," they both said at the same time. It got them laughing at least and he gestured for her to continue.

"So, I guess I should leave. I'll come up with an excuse and refund your friends' money."

As she pulled the strap of her dress back on her shoulder and stepped towards her belongings, Mike reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait, you should stay," he said, answering the question she had on her face, only to replace it with another. "It's been a long time since I've been able to talk to someone who knew me before all this and…I don't have to watch what I say around you."

It sounded awful, but it was the truth. They both knew it as she bit her upper lip again.

"You do realize that's what people pay me for, right?" The right side of her mouth lifted up, recapturing some of that confidence she had during dinner. "Well, not everything."

"Yea, I know," he said with after a laugh. "I just thought we could be like two high school friends who happened to run into each other. You know, in a hotel room."

That made her entire face light up. "I suppose it would be a pity to let this fancy hotel room go to waste."

Since they had already eaten dinner, they ordered dessert and another bottle of wine. While they waited, they fired up the television and settled on the bed to watch HBO which was showing some recently released movie which Mike had no clue about but Rachel apparently loved. He could see why. It was a good movie and had a romantic streak a mile long and two miles wide which he sort of remembered her having back in high school.

When their dessert and second bottle of wine arrived, the attention paid to the movie dropped considerably and their conversation turned from the movie towards more personal subjects, although, he did much of the talking for obvious reasons.

He had told his story to plenty of people, and he didn't mind sharing it with Rachel when she asked how he became a lawyer. She listened with rapt attention as he described how being a great dancer in Lima the same as being a good dancer in Chicago which didn't cut it and it really didn't cut it in LA where everyone seemed to be as good as, if not better than, him. Without any connections or a lucky break, he had been forced to work odd jobs until he had to choose whether or not to continue to chase his dream.

The details of his law career were boring and he didn't bother telling her much.

"So, this other senior partner gives me the key for this room and an envelope with a business card with your…name on it."

"A very generous offer from the other partners."

Mike chuckled then said, "Yea, I thought about turning it down."

"You did?"

"Yea, but then the other partner said he would use the key if I didn't and he's a prick so I didn't want someone to suffer through him if I could help it."

He heard her giggle before she said, "Thank you for saving me from him. He sounds unpleasant."

"Although, he did say one interesting thing now that I think about it."

"Hmm…what's that?"

"He said you were twenty-six, but I'm pretty sure we're the same age."

"That's one thing this profession has in common with my previous one: more opportunities when you lie about your age," Rachel said with a laugh.

He supposed it might have been the more relaxed atmosphere. Or the second bottle of wine they finished. Or a combination of the two. Or maybe she just wanted to tell someone her story. He couldn't imagine her sharing it with too many people. But, one moment they were making snarky comments over some reality show they had stumbled across and the next Rachel was telling him how her life had gone.

Their stories were remarkably similar. Rachel had done well in school, but the talent pool in New York was just so much bigger, it was harder to stand out. Even with the recommendations and networking from school, she couldn't do any better than a few bit parts here and there. It looked as though her career would amount to nothing more than those tiny parts until she fell in love with the lead role of a newly created, high-concept musical.

She had to land the part, and for a while it looked as though it might happen. The callbacks came one after another until only she and two other women were left. In her view, any one of them could have won the role and done an excellent job, but it felt as though this was one of her last shots at fulfilling her dreams of becoming a star. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that there were people with more talent than her and even they weren't able to make it to Broadway because they never had the chance to shine.

This was her chance to shine and she decided she would do anything to make it. And she did.

"After all that, the production didn't even make it out of workshops," she said and a sad laugh followed. "And then I was back waiting tables."

Somehow, while they watched TV, his shoulder ended up being used as a pillow and he could feel her breathing in and out. He had a feeling she might stop her story if he brought any sort of attention to himself, so he didn't dare move as he waited for her to continue.

"I suppose he talked enough about my 'performance' so that other people wanted to hire me, but I refused. I didn't think of myself as that kind of woman, but when he said how much they were willing to pay…" He damn near jumped when her hand closed around his wrist. "If I took three jobs a month, I could pay off all of my expenses for the month and still have a tiny bit to put away, but more importantly, I would have all the time in the world to audition, take acting classes, and do whatever else I needed to do to make it to Broadway.

"That—that makes sense right?"

She was looking up at him with a look that seemed to ask him to validate her choice.

"Yea, it does."

Relief washed over her face but was soon replaced with a wry smile. "I quickly developed a stable of good clients and developed my acting skills, but needless to say things didn't work out the way I had envisioned. Though there is a silver lining, well aside from the money of course."

"What's that?"

She actually sounded excited as she said the words: "I get to play so many different parts now."

"What?"

"Every time I go out with someone, it's as though I'm playing a role created just for that person."

"Really," he deadpanned. "That's an interesting way to look at it."

"I'm not kidding. Every client wants a different personality from me and it is like I'm stepping into a new role every night."

"A role that requires you to sleep with…the other actor every time."

"Well yes, there is that," she said as her face fell, but some of her bravado returned as she continued, "But, it's more acting than I ever did as a professional actor."

"Huh, so what'd you do for a new client?"

"Well, I would usually have corresponded with him multiple times to get a sense of his likes and dislikes. And a first encounter is almost always a simple affair such as dinner and a show which allows us to get to know each other, much like a date. From there, I can refine my performance to the client's personal taste."

"How does that usually go?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I asked."

Her chest pressed against his rib cage as she took a deep breath and, even through his shirt, he felt her exhale. "I use what I know to make them feel comfortable. Some prefer an outgoing personality, others, a more subdued one, but in every case they should always feel welcome to make the first move."

"Is that what you were doing to me?"

"Yes."

"Are you doing that now?"

"No."

An idea popped into his head as he wondered if she was lying to him and he worked through all of the pros and cons of the idea. After he did that, he decided that it didn't really matter if she was lying to him. He wouldn't be making the first move or any move on an escort he knew from high school, no matter how comfortable they made him feel.

"So, did you know who I was?"

He felt her shaking her head as she said, "Of course not. If I knew who you were I would have never taken the assignment."

"What did you know?"

"I knew you worked for a prestigious law firm, that you were a good man, and that it would be your first time with…you know."

"Not much to go on." He felt her head shake again. "Why did you accept?"

"I wasn't going to, but the man from your firm kept pressing until I offered to do it for five times my normal rate which I figured he would decline." He felt her shift and she was looking at him when he glanced down. "They must really like you."

"Maybe, or maybe it's just supposed to be a really good 'Welcome to the club' present, but I'm guessing that guy really wants to get in your pants and this is way in. That guy also sounds like a prick so I'm also guessing he's the same guy who told me about this."

"Thank you for telling me about him. He sounds unpleasant. I don't think I'll ever go out with him, no matter how much he offers."

"Good."

"Have you gone out with anyone else from my firm?" he asked as that idea kept bugging him.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

They fell silent as the antics of the drunken young people on MTV provided a distraction from the conversation which let Mike think about the story he just heard. For one, it was pretty unbelievable. If he hadn't seen and heard it from Rachel herself, he would have laughed at anyone who told him that Rachel was doing what she was doing. She was the one person from their high school class who was supposed to make their dreams come true.

No one else had her talent or drive and if she didn't make it, what chance did the rest of them have? And from the Facebook status updates he read, it was no chance at all. Everyone they knew from high school that had made it out of Lima were working mundane 9-5 office jobs now. Those that hadn't made it out of Lima were mostly married and doing the best they could in their small hometown.

"We were never like that were we?" Rachel asked as they watched the drunks on TV.

"No," he said with a laugh. "Our wildest parties were utterly tame by their standards."

"I'm glad." She turned slightly and placed her hand on his chest then wrapped one of her legs across his. The hand on his chest made him feel uncomfortable. Years of sitting around reading and writing legal documents without much exercise had left him with a bit of a gut. He hoped she wasn't expecting him to still have those abs he had back when he danced, but she didn't seem to mind. "None of their parties look fun."

The idea kept prodding him until he couldn't take it anymore. "Rachel?"

She hummed something unintelligible.

"I have an idea. It's pretty crazy, but you should really think about it."

"Hmm?"

"I need an assistant and I'd like to hire you."

He felt her pull back as she said, "I—I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity. You'd be working at least 45 hours a week doing office work for 70 grand a year. Obviously, you'd have to quit your current job so I'm guessing you'd be making much less if you became my assistant."

"I wouldn't have any time to audition then."

"When was the last time you actually auditioned for something?"

Her lack of a response told him all he needed to know.

"When was the last time you talked to someone about your job? Or even talked to a friend about anything?"

The silence continued and they both understood what it meant. He excused himself, went to the bathroom, and stared at himself in the mirror wondering what the hell he was doing for the hundredth time after he finished his business and washed his face. It was late and Rachel would probably be getting ready to go, but when he stepped back into the room, she was still lying on the bed having commandeered the remote for the TV.

Looking up at him, she said, "I don't want to impose, but it's late so can I stay here for the night?"

"Of course you can." He pulled out his wallet and then a business card from it. "I'm going to leave this next to your things. You don't have to use it, but I hope you take it with you."

"Are you done?" she asked with an arched eyebrow and when he nodded, she patted the bed, indicating that he should lie down next to her again. So, he did and she put her hand and leg back where they were on his body while they watched some black and white classic movie. After a few minutes, he felt her shift and thought nothing of it until her lips pressed against his cheek. When he looked down, she kissed him on the lips and lingered there for a few moments. She had a small smile on her face as she pulled back that faltered as she noticed his blank expression.

"What are you doing?"

"I think that's pretty obvious," she said as her hand began caressing his chest and her leg moved up and down along his.

"You don't have to do this."

"I'm not doing this because I have to." Her hand easily unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. "I'm doing this because I want to."

"I don't think—"

"Mike, don't think about it."

And he didn't.

* * *

He woke up the next morning and Rachel was sitting on the bed next to him. She had a towel wrapped around her body and her hair was still damp from the shower she had to have taken while he was asleep.

"Morning sleepyhead," she said with a smile.

"Morning." He opened his arms and said, "Come back to bed."

"I'd love to," she said as her smiled widened, "but you slept so long and I have to meet someone for lunch." He opened his mouth to say something but she quickly said, "Don't worry, it's not for business."

He felt a little weird as he watched her get ready for lunch, but she didn't mind and he sort of enjoyed seeing her primp herself. The fact that she got naked in front of him to put on her dress helped remind him of last night and how skilled she was. She twirled around in front of him when she finished and asked, "How do I look?"

"Beautiful."

She smiled again before grabbing her things. They said their goodbyes and then she was gone. He sat back in bed and watched some TV for a bit before jumping into the shower. When he got out, he noticed that the business card he left next to her large purse was gone and he smiled.

* * *

It had been almost two weeks since that night and Rachel still hadn't called. He wasn't exactly counting the days, but it wasn't as though he had forgotten his offer and he was quickly losing hope that she would take him up on it. That meant he had to begin the process of selecting a new assistant, which he was doing at the moment when his intercom rang.

"Mr. Chang? You have a Rachel Berry on the line."

"Thanks," he said before picking up the phone. "Rachel?"

"Hello, did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, I'm just looking over some resumes."

"I want to take you up—Resumes? I'm not too late to take you up on your offer, am I?"

"No, your timing is perfect. It's just a formality, but when can you come in for your interview?"

"Is tomorrow okay?"

"That'd be perfect. And Mike?"

"Yea?"

"Thank you."

Even though she couldn't see, he smiled.


End file.
